


Tin Soldiers

by Avenging_is_My_Day_Job



Series: Halfway Human [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, Cyborg!Tony Stark, Gen, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 23:58:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14436984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avenging_is_My_Day_Job/pseuds/Avenging_is_My_Day_Job
Summary: He woke up to the Hulk roaring in his face, and Steve warning him, almost jokingly, not to power down during a fight again. Jarvis chimed in his ear that he had actually been dead for three minutes. The suit has a built in AED that he had hoped he would never need, but Pepper begged him to install, because if no one knows he's alive then no one will know to open the suit and resuscitate him.





	Tin Soldiers

**Author's Note:**

> I'm way into this AU, so have another fic the day after the first one! Enjoy, my friends!

The fallout was incredible.

People were scared out of their wits because Tony Stark's last invention, his _final creation_ was a sentient AI that pretended to be human and had the freedom to run around in a person-shaped vessel. They wanted to know if there would be repercussions for this, if the robot - 

_Excuse you_ , he corrected someone, at one point, _AI. I don't need the suit to function._

\- If the _AI_ would ever be decommissioned. They called Tony's intentions with it into question. Why create something so advanced and so capable if he had no knowledge of Stane's underhanded dealings? Clearly the Iron Man was made to resolve the issue, and now that the perpetrator was gone, why allow it to continue to function? Stark was gone too, thus couldn't raise hell to keep the ~~weapon~~ from being torn apart.

Pepper was worried, but Tony wasn't. A grand total of four people knew the truth, and two of them were more than capable of keeping the dogs at bay. If it came down to it, he could protect himself. If it _really_ came down to it, all he needed to do was claim a miscommunication with public relations. " _The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated._ " He was recovering after his harrowing ordeal, the Iron Man was a prototype security droid, all of it was a misunderstanding and _let's just forget the whole thing. Look at this new line of phones we're releasing in six months!_ Always have a contingency plan.

The fallout was incredible, and Tony was content to watch.

It was no different than reality television, or the wild, late-night programs that speculated about celebrities' lives with no real impact or proof. Tony was safe, his secret was safe as long as he wanted it to be, and everything was running according to plan. The company bounced back in no time, recovering from the abrupt change in product development within weeks of the press conference. He was working on new designs, more reliable and accurate medical equipment, more efficient arc reactors to power buildings and eventually cities, and busying himself at all hours of the day and night keeping his head above the water.

Inevitably, he found himself wondering if it was at all worth it.

He was trapped in his own home unless Iron Man planned on making an appearance, but he preferred working from the sidelines now. It was easier to help people and give the world the little nudges it needed when it didn't come with the ostentation that was attached to his name. Nobody thought twice about his contributions. It was just something new for the public to consume. No appearances or speeches necessary. And of course, it was always fun to watch his company run laps around Hammer Industries even when he wasn't alive to take the credit.

It's hard to go stir crazy when you can fucking _fly_ so he currently had no qualms with the arrangement.

As it were, between projects for the company and keeping up with his alter ego's reputation, he usually found himself tinkering with upgrades for the cybernetics. He was serious in improving the delayed movements and the indistinct pressure sensitivity. He worked with his hands, so _damnit_ he needed at _least_ for the arm to function like a real one.

Then the thing with Vanko happened. And Justin Hammer. The latter was dealt with accordingly, and the litany of charges against him were enough to put him away for life, but Hammer was a different story. Local authorities couldn't pin 'attempted murder' on him when the victim - he fucking hated that word - was allegedly already dead. Tony thoroughly inquired about the technicalities of the case, but all he knew was that SHIELD quietly took over and Coulson assured him that Hammer would face the full consequences of his actions.

It was rehearsed public relations bullshit, but he sensed the underlying tone. He'd be genuinely surprised if his so called 'rival' were to ever see the light of day again.

" _And by the way, we've gone above and beyond to keep your secret, so we have a huge favor to ask_." So those were't Fury's exact words, but having the man show up in your home, in the middle of the night, for the _second time_ was offputting. To say the very least. Forgive him for having to improvise a few details.

It was the same conversation, but with more urgency. 

"I was having fun, Nick," 

Yes! Having heaps of fun blowing up illegal weapons depots, killing bad guys, saving innocents...

"Remember you agreed to this, Stark," the director pointed out, "At least this way your actions will be sanctioned, and people won't think we're being overthrown by Skynet."

Tony laughed. He didn't take the overall panic of robot revolutions into account when he told the world he was dead, but it was highly amusing. "So you _are_ a pop culture buff."

Unfazed, the director passed a file over to him. "No one will ever believe you." Tony scoffed, and scanned the folder's contents.

"You don't need me yet," he concluded. "You might not need me at all."

"It's better to have a contingency plan. Have all our ducks in a row," he stood, that obnoxious coat sweeping out dramatically behind him. "You'll get a call when something happens."

"If," Tony called, looking up as the man started to leave.

" _When_ ," came the final reply, before Tony was once again alone.

 _When_. He didn't like the sound of that. Or the thought of it. Dealing with bad _people_ was one thing, but the tesseract was on a whole other level. Any other time in his life and he would have been hot and bothered at the thought of getting his hands on it, but now he was acutely aware of the possibilities it brought. What trouble it might attract. He didn't want to be the one to rebuff that trouble, but he was also acutely aware that he was one of the few people who possessed the resources and the know-how to do it. 

He saved a digital copy of the file and burned the original in the kitchen sink.

* * *

Tony owes a few hundred dollars to the swear jar back in Malibu. Pepper had yet to implement one in the penthouse, so he was positive it didn't count, but if it did, he'd owe a few hundred to that one too. Closing in on at least a thousand, now, and counting, even if the string of curses had yet to be uttered out loud. 

Because _when_ happened, and why did Fury always have to be right?

Pepper gave him a look, pretended to know nothing about the Avengers Initiative, and decided to leave a day early so Tony could help Coulson and SHIELD deal with their little problem before it got worse.

"Don't get into any trouble," she said.

"You know me better than that," he replied, softly, ignoring the Agent's presence nearby.

"Let me hope," she said, kissing his cheek before disappearing into the elevator.

As soon as she was gone, " _Fuck!_ Tell me that I'm not the only one who understands the implications of you _losing_ the _goddamned_ tesseract?"

"Of course not, Stark. You'll be alerted with new leads that crop up, until then..."

"You came all the way up here for that?"

Coulson turned to leave this time. " _Goodbye_ , Mister Stark."

The elevator doors closed, and for the first time all night, Jarvis finally joined the party. "Might I suggest keeping tabs on SHIELD's emergency alert systems?"

"Would you mind breaking into their phones, too? I have a feeling they won't call me until the last minute. AKA once it's too late."

"Always, sir," that sounded like cooperation _and_ a sarcastic jab at SHIELD. He would never be more proud of one of his creations.

The room fell silent, and he sat in the uncomfortable emptiness of the newly finished penthouse for the rest of the evening.

* * *

"Iron Man," Captain America greeted.

"Captain."

The thing with Loki happened. 

Tony, by the time it had all come to a head on the helicarrier, was positively done with the whole thing. The initiative, the Avengers, mythological demigods hellbent on familial revenge and world subjugation...

Getting trapped in a giant jet turbine and having your leg ripped off didn't make for a very pleasant morning.

Thank fuck his repulsors still worked. After a few agonizing laps around the inside of the turbine, trying to drown out the godawful sound of metal dragging on metal, he finally managed to slip out. Only to start spiraling in the air. Jarvis helpfully cut off the mic in the helmet, silencing Tony's profane exclamations while he tried to right himself in the air. Of everything that had to go wrong today, he had to look like a fool on top of it all? He aimed for the general direction of a shattered window and flew, crashing into a half destroyed, half burnt office.

He laid there, on top of a pile of debris, for a good five minutes catching his breath and letting the panic abate before he attempted to move. He sat up, then grabbed the edge of a desk to get leverage to stand up. The door, already busted all to hell and hanging halfway off the frame was ripped from it's one remaining hinge as Rogers practically sprinted into the room.

Steve Rogers freaking the _fuck_ out because one of his tin soldiers showed up missing a limb and _why are you just standing there, your leg is gone_ was slightly amusing but he wasn't going to lie, it hurt like a bitch and he was starting to regret integrating a sense of pain and pressure in these limbs.

It took Tony a few seconds to realize why the man was staring at him like he was looking at a ghost. He looked down, watching oil from the suit pooling on the floor under the mangled leg, looking scarily similar to pooled blood.

"Just help me get somewhere safer," he said, prompting Rogers to move. He draped an arm over the Captain's shoulders and allowed himself to be half-dragged out of the room, where he was directed to a lab to deposit Tony on a workbench.

"Just stay there and don't move," one of Fury's lackeys, Agent Hill, commanded, and Tony really couldn't do otherwise as long as he only had one leg and the suit was weighing him down. Another lackey came in, carrying the remnants of his leg, which was amazing because he didn't get a glimpse of where it was ejected to. 

A little while later, Rogers shuffled in, looking scruffed up but wearing some casual, clean clothes instead of the overtly colourful uniform that Coulson had insisted was standard issue.

"I don't understand," he said, "They said you aren't..."

A red gauntlet, scuffed and scratched from battle, raised up to tap the side of a helmet. The sound that resonated from the contact was metallic and loud. Inside the suit, Tony almost winced. _Too hard_. Whatever, it didn’t make a difference. He sort of wanted to laugh, anyway. The shocked look on his face were priceless. Would laughing be believable? Jarvis had a sense of humor, but he never laughed. Always seems smug, though.

“Not. Human.” He said, firmly. "I can repeat myself again. In any language, actually.”

He doubled down, holding back the laughter threatening to bubble to the surface. They hadn’t seen his face once, so what lead them to believe that there was a person behind the mask? Granted, there technically was. Sort of. Schematics. Okay, not funny anymore.

“Sorry to burst your bubble,” he added, apologetically.

Rogers suddenly looked uncomfortable, and Tony didn't blame him. How long had it been? Two weeks since they found him? That was a lot to absorb in only two weeks, no matter how collected he was pretending to be.

"Nevermind," Rogers sighed.

"Speak what's on your mind, Stevie. We're all friends here."

"How's that possible?" the Captain asked, quietly.

"Artificial intelligence. I wasn't the first one Stark created - "

"Stark. You mean Tony Stark, right? Howard's son?"

 _It's been_ one _day!_

"Yes," he said, after a tense moment. "Howard's son."

"I read about him. So, why? He wasn't the most selfless person."

 _Ouch_. If looks could kill, then the only reasons that Rogers wasn't dead on the floor was because of the faceplate. Tony sighed, the sound barely picking up on the mic in the suit, and being registered as static. He picked up the tools that Hill brought to him and got to work reshaping warped metal so he could reattach the cybernetic to what was still left on his body. Pieces were missing, sure, scattered in the water below the vessel, and the rest wouldn't function fully now that it had been damaged, but he could make it work until this was all over.

"Sorry," Rogers continued, after a few minutes passed. "You were probably close. He created you, I mean... Sorry."

"I get it," Tony said, "Two weeks ago, the weirdest thing you'd ever seen was a dude with a comically red face, and today you're talking to a sentient computer. You'll get the hang of the twenty first century eventually."

The other man didn't seem too happy with that response, but refrained from saying more. It was only fair. Tony didn't need to prove himself to a man he'd lost faith in a long time ago. 

Steve left him to his work.

* * *

The thing with Loki happened - after the first thing - and then the thing with the portal happened.

Tony flew straight up into the sky, disappearing into the void of space over the city and watched the nuke tear apart the Chitauri's mothership. He watched their vessels lose power, or die, or whatever was making them start drifting listlessly in space. He felt himself running out of air in the suit as the shock-wave from the explosion pushed him back. He closed his eyes, unable to hold his breath any longer, and continued to fall. 

He woke up to the Hulk roaring in his face, and Steve warning him, almost jokingly, not to power down during a fight again. Jarvis chimed in his ear that he had actually been dead for three minutes. The suit has a built in AED that he had hoped he would never need, but Pepper begged him to install, because if no one know's he's alive then no one will know to open the suit and resuscitate him. 

They were then picked up, one by one from their various locations around the city, by a shuttle that brought them back to the helicarrier. Bruce, now _Bruce_ again, shuffled off, wrapped in a shock blanket, to change into the sweats that someone had scrounged up for him, and the murder twins were escorted to medical to get their injuries seen to immediately. Thor was off securing his crazed brother, properly this time, and to work out some kind of arrangement with the director to deal with him. Steve stayed back, insisting on keeping an eye on his teammates and making sure they were tended to properly before he accepted any help for himself.

"The serum will take care of it anyway, go check on the others, first."

And Tony. Tony was left with a gimp robot-leg and the weight of _dying_ still sitting on his shoulders. He fucking _died_ and no one on this god forsaken ship knew. He needed out of the suit. He needed fresh air. He needed out of the suit, he needed...

"You need to go to medical," someone said, from somewhere behind him.

"Oh, _fuck_ no." he snapped, reeling around as fast as this clunky piece of junk would let him, and came face to face with Fury. "There's no way in fresh hell I'm letting any of your incompetent techs anywhere near my circuits."

"Not an option," the Director said, simply, poorly masking his concern. _Fury, you're actually a teddy-bear, but no_.

"I get it, you want it for your reports. I'll have Jarvis, an impartial third party, run diagnostics and send you the full report. Deal?"

"Do it here," Fury said, "I'm not letting you leave this ship unless I know you're in stable condition."

"All I need is a computer and a locked room."

"My office. No one will bother you there."

Tony limped away, grateful for the privacy but wary nevertheless. Fury's office was probably the most secure room on the helicarrier, nay, on the eastern seaboard, but he didn't trust any of SHIELD and the state everything was in, and anyone with brains could compromise the security if _he_ could do it it just a few minutes, and Jarvis was trying to coach him to breathe because he was starting to panic...

He stumbled into the office and sat down, letting Jarvis calm him down while running his scans. He watched his vitals appear on the computer monitor on the desk, along with the suit's diagnostics, and there was too much for him to bother trying to read. As soon as Jay gave him the all clear, he _finally_ got to escape the confines of the suit. A stuffy office wasn't as ideal as fresh air, but by god it was better than anything. First he tried sitting in the chair behind the desk, but it still felt confining so he ended up sprawled out on the floor, directly under a vent blowing cool air into the room.

A while later, a few hours probably, because he was sure he dozed off at one point, Tony startled at the sound of the locks on the door disengaging. His heart rate picked up, registering on the screen, and pounding in his chest, only calming when he realized it was only Fury.

"Surely you're done by now."

Tony picked his hand up off the floor and pointed at the computer. "Even saved it."

Fury took a few minutes to read, and Tony used the time to pick himself up off the ground and look a little more dignified. 

"I trust you'll be giving your personal physician a call?"

"Jarvis sent a message..." he checked the time, "Two hours ago."

"I want updates," the Director said, "You know what you're risking, here."

Tony stepped back into the suit, and the HUD lit up in front of his face. "I'll be in touch," he said, leaving.

* * *

He crossed paths with the rest of the 'team' on his way out. Romanov was in a boot, Barton had a few bandages, and _both_ gave him wary glares as he passed. Bruce was trying to disappear into his chair, and Thor looked as good as ever, like he hadn't just gone five rounds in the ring with a giant, mechanical space whale. The bastard.

Tony paused his trek to try and strike up friendly conversation, but they weren't having it. The spies clearly didn't trust him, and even though he bonded with Green Bean in the lab a few hours ago, he could tell the man was being careful not to trigger the Hulk again by steering clear of any stressors.

"You guys should stop by Stark Tower sometime. I promise it's better than the shithole barracks that SHIELD has you living in."

"We're good," Barton piped up, and Romanov tilted her head to look at him.

"C'mon. Banner? We've got the best R&D department in the states. Potts wouldn't mind. I promise a completely stress free environment and an amazing alibi if anyone comes knocking."

That seemed to intrigue the man, and Tony perked up a bit. "Why?" Romanov asked.

"A gesture of good faith. It might take a little while to repurpose a few office floors into living space, but if this Initiative is going to be an official thing then we need to be in closer proximity to one another, and..."

"We get it," Rogers intercepted. "I'll take this to Fury. You should probably get back to your lab to finish your repairs."

Cold. Insincere. "Jarvis, send the proposal to Director Fury. I've got a feeling that Captain Spandex is going to put it on the backburner."

Yeah, it hurt that they didn't really see him as more than a robot, but he knew what he signed up for when he approved the headlines four years ago. He'd leave the option open, though he wasn't sure they would accept. He didn't mind. Maybe a little, but he shouldn't. So he went home, replaced shattered windows and checked the structural stability of the tower before anything else, then retreated to his lab to disconnect the destroyed prosthetic and start building a new one.

A few days later, amidst the cleanup efforts and the reports, he got word that the request was approved and that the Avengers, an official SHIELD strike team, would be transferring to the 'Stark Tower Barracks' at varying dates in the coming months.

His heart grew three sizes that day. ( _Figuratively, of course. He was too tired to deal with any more scans_.)


End file.
